Spock & No1 - Jealousy
by Fiorenza-a
Summary: His gaze lingered on her as she spoke, he felt a warm sense of pride that the Captain listened to her with an attentiveness he reserved for no other.
1. Chapter 1

Spock looked up from what he had been doing. The Captain was on the bridge talking to the ship's No.1.

Always before, when he heard her voice, he saw nothing but her. Other people existed of course, but they were pale water colour creatures next to the bright vibrancy of her presence. His gaze lingered on her as she spoke, he felt a warm sense of pride that the Captain listened to her with an attentiveness he reserved for no other. Speaking to her as an equal, easy in her company, deferring to her judgement, respectful of her opinion.

Spock never felt at ease, but in her company he could forget his awkwardness, she made him forget it, laughing with love in her eyes when he misunderstood or misspoke. It made him want to laugh too, as he had seen his crewmates laugh when they had made themselves foolish, but it was beyond him. His discipline was too strong, too much a part of him, impossible to deny. It imprisoned him and he was complicit in his confinement, unable now to exist without it.

But the Captain laughed, throwing back his head, careless of his rank. Enjoying the freedom her company gave him to be just a man; mortal, fallible, human. Spock had seen him laugh, had seen her laugh with him, as she could not laugh with a Vulcan, as she would never be able to laugh with a Vulcan. As his mother could not laugh with his father. As his mother had never been able to laugh with him.

Now when he saw them together the Captain was always in sharp focus, a foil to her brightness, somehow completing her. And mingled with the pride was something bitter, something he didn't understand, something that cut and hurt and for which he had no words, as he had no laughter.

He remained mesmerised, his eyes fixed on their togetherness. The Captain did not recoil at the inconsequential intimacies which Spock found so difficult to navigate, Pike seemingly undisturbed that their hands collided by accident, unconcerned when their eyes met in conversation. Spock stood torn in two, the hurt within him demanding he focus only on them, duty and logic demanding the hurt be denied. That he think only of his work.

Duty and logic at length prevailing, for there was no choice but that they must, he turned away. She left the bridge, he heard her go, heard the warmth in the Captain's voice as they parted, confirming her orders and their closeness. He forced his mind to think only of his work, losing himself in the detail. Grateful for the discipline that allowed him to shut out all else and function only as an intellect.

Her orders had been clear, she was preparing a landing party. Gathering a team about her to investigate the planet they orbited. She would go herself, there would be specialists and a security detail. In addition there had been one other. The Captain would be beaming down with them. She had seemed almost gleeful at this, teasing the Captain about age and rank as she teased Spock about youth and inexperience.

He worked diligently, refusing to acknowledge the part of him that called him away from his duties, that urged him to seek her out and tell her that he was sorry that he was imperfect and flawed, awkward in a hundred different ways. That he could not laugh for her. That he was not human for her. That he was not the Captain.


	2. Chapter 2

The Captain called her No.1, it was more than a designation of seniority, it was a recognition that he couldn't run the ship without her. That she was an asset he valued and relied on, the foundation of his command. When he said it, it always seemed infused with his respect and admiration, not merely a way of catching her attention but a way of honouring his indebtedness.

What had Spock to offer in place of this? Himself? What was that against the laurels a starship Captain could bestow? He knew what he was, a fractured being neither wholly man, nor wholly Vulcan. Unable to tell her the depth of his love, hardly able even to admit it to himself. It revealed itself always in pain. She saw the pain and was saddened by it, he saw it in her eyes and heard it in her voice. It was manifest in the gentleness of her touch. He tried to make her understand that for him all emotion was pain. That this pain was sweet to him, because it was the measure of his love. He knew she loved him. Knew she wanted him to be able to love her as freely as she did him, but he didn't know how. His mother had wanted him to know, hoped he would learn, tried to give him a way; but it was impossible to love as he did and to be Vulcan. He found it impossible. So he loved as he could, as well as he could, grateful that he could and asked no more.

She had put together her landing party; two security officers, two specialists, herself and the Captain. The specialists had included a geologist, Dr Sylvia Pereira, and Spock. The security officers, Martin Taplow and Craig Brightman, were newly assigned but the rest of the team had served on the Enterprise for sometime and were therefore well acquainted.

Spock was uncertain of his feelings regarding his inclusion. He had always relished their time away from the ship together, absenting them from the scrutiny and curiosity of the crew. Spock was aware of the interest the crew exhibited in them but he neither shrank from it nor engaged with it. He kept his distance. His business his own.

Her rank exempted her from much that he was exposed to, but she too felt no obligation to make the inner workings of her life known. She did not hide their attachment neither did she explain it. It simply existed and she expected acceptance.

But now there was a sharp agony that pinched at his heart. They would not be alone, they would be in company, their world encroached upon. And the Captain would be there, eclipsing him, diminishing him, obscuring him. For how could he compete with his Captain, what right had he to try?

He made his way to the transporter with heavy feet. His duty was clear, he must go. His logic was clear, he had no choice. Neither duty nor logic recognised that there was more of him than they owned, that he had desires and needs beyond their reckoning.

All but the security contingent had arrived when he reached the transporter. He took his place on the pad near his commanding officers. Taplow and Brightman entered the room briskly after him and followed his lead. The team assembled, Captain Pike gave the order and they were transported to the surface.

The planet had a barren beauty, rocky outcrops streaked with grey and purple, soft brown soil and a misty haze rising in the distance. It's sun was a pale yellow in a soft orange sky, a constant warm breeze swirled about them. They found no evidence of life; plant or animal. Dr Pereira had already begun scanning their surroundings, the Captain ordered Spock to assist her. Spock acknowledged the order and joined the Doctor in her investigations. The security officers began their own evaluation.

The Captain stood with his second in command, their voices were low and serious. Spock's sensitive hearing caught much of their conversation. They were discussing what needed to be done, what they wanted to be done, how it would be done. There was an easy intimacy between them. A shared set of assumptions, a joint understanding of the way things were, of the way things should be. The Captain did not mistake or misunderstand. There was no cultural confusion. She did not have to stop and explain idiom or expression. They were two halves of a whole. Complementary, one to the other. A pairing.

He felt a sharp twist of something inside him. He wished his ears were less efficient, more like his mother's, less like his father's. He did not want to hear their conversation. He'd heard humans say ignorance was bliss and had thought it stupid. For knowledge was everything and its acquisition the only justification for existing, but now he understood; ignorance veiled the ugly truth and was a protection against its vile hurt. Ignorant of the nature of her bond with the Captain he had been happy, now it was revealed it was a shattering truth. It had shattered him.

The Captain had finished speaking to his partner in command and had moved a little way from the group in order to contact his ship. No.1 walked towards them. She began issuing orders, they were to expect equipment, shelters, provisions. The landing party was going to spend three days on the planet; the Captain would then review the situation. He may or may not decide that they should remain longer, he may or may not decide that further equipment or personnel would be required. Spock listened attentively, they all listened attentively. She commanded attention. She was everything he most admired, most aspired to be. Rational, commanding, respected.

And she was everything he most desired. The delicate cream of her skin framed by her dark hair, her blue eyes full of intelligence, her mobile features, her slender figure. How could she be slipping away from him? Why could he not hold on to her? He loved enough for both of them, what more was needed? How did he fight to keep her when the miracle by which she became his was still beyond fathoming?

The wrenching of his insides told him that the Captain was returning before his distracted brain could register the movement. She was smiling warmly at Pike, addressing him with respect and informality. She confirmed that the Captain's orders had been relayed and suggested that she and her commanding officer might like to take the time to explore a little on their own. The Captain returned her smile, ruefully recounting an anecdote from their last joint adventure as they sauntered aimlessly away from him. Leaving him behind. Behind and alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Left alone, Spock spent his time helping Dr Pereira as she collated her findings. He knew his duty. Of all things, he was always certain of his duty. This was his duty. Taplow and Brightman had completed their own survey and had found nothing of concern, so they were busying themselves setting up the shelters and equipment ready for inspection when the Captain and No.1 returned.

Spock concentrated hard on Dr Pereira's findings and in assisting her further studies. He was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his thoughts focussed. His normally disciplined mind obsessively searching his memories for the tender moments he had shared with the ship's First Officer on their own missions together. Moments and memories with which it now mocked him. Moments she and the Captain would now share. Memories she would make without him.

How could he ever have believed she felt as he did, as deeply as he did? She was everything and he was nothing, it was obvious to him now. He did not understand why it had not been obvious before. She had pitied him, how could she not? And he had seen more than there was to see, it was the only logical explanation. His uncertain grasp of emotion had led him astray, had led him to believe that pity was love and, beyond all stupidity, that he had inspired this love. In the cold light of reason the absurdity of this belief was laid bare. His foolish self delusion cruelly exposed; and yet it was no more than he deserved. What greater crime was there for a Vulcan than to allow his intellect to be made servant to his dreams. What right had a Vulcan to dreams?

Dr Pereira called his indisciplined thinking back to its proper pursuits by asking if he could make out what she saw in the distance. Made indistinct by the haze but running towards them was a figure and a second or two later he realised it was her figure. She was running heedless of terrain or climate; his mind which had been tormenting him with phantoms from the past now presented an immediate agony, for something terrible must be wrong. His thoughts no longer mattered; instinct had him now, he was running towards her, ready to do anything she needed him to do.

They met breathlessly a few yards from the encampment, she from exertion, he because in this moment she left him breathless. He could see her face was streaked with tears, but she still radiated control; control of herself and of the situation. There was pride in him still that she could be thus. Shaken in person but not in authority. In command always. ''The Captain's been taken by something; an animal, large, ferocious, it's dragged him off somewhere, I couldn't keep up with it'' she panted out. ''I emptied a phaser into it and it still outran me; my communicator got broken in the struggle, the Captain's is still on him, we can use it to trace him.'' Her concern for the Captain was evident, natural, expected, but it sliced through him like a rapier none the less.

He reached for his own communicator and called the ship; the bridge acknowledging his hail. He handed the communicator to her so that she could give her orders. She ordered a scan for the Captain's communicator and for further security personnel to beam down whilst they cleared the camp. She kept the communicator, stowing it on her belt. Something in Spock responded to this, knowing that something of his was clinging so closely to her. He suppressed it instantly, it had no place now. No place because the situation rendered his personal concerns inconsequential. And no place because he had lost the right to such responses, the man who was missing, the man who must be injured, the man who was still Captain, had that right now.

Their mission abandoned almost before it had begun, No.1 ordered Dr Pereira to beam back immediately with some of the equipment, but she asked Spock to stay. It was an unusual request, outside of regulations, but Spock believed he understood why. His specialism was science, but he was still a Vulcan and his physique might prove useful in this emergency. The additional security personnel arrived and deployed themselves in creating a defensive perimeter whilst Spock, Taplow and Brightman dismantled the shelters they had so recently put up. They stowed the shelters away neatly with the remaining equipment and provisions. Then Taplow called the Enterprise to begin beaming up both kit and crew.

It took no more than ten minutes for the landing party, the additional security team and all their kit to be beamed aboard. No one and nothing was left behind. No one and nothing but the Captain. Spock was uncertain of his feelings about this. He was a loyal officer, he would give his life if necessary to rescue the Captain. His Captain. But the Captain was hers too, and if Pike lived the man to whom he owed his loyalty would claim from him something he held more precious than his life.

What were the bounds of loyalty he wondered? He had never considered this question before. It had always been unnecessary; the answer had always been that the limit of loyalty was death, that he would die if necessary. It had never occurred to him that there were greater losses than the mere surrendering of life. That there could be something more, that loyalty might demand that he must lose this precious thing and that he would live and know that it was lost.

He knew what he must do. He must do everything in his power to find the Captain and restore him to the ship. It was his duty. There was no other possibility. But he did not know how he would live afterwards. He had no answers for that.


	4. Chapter 4

She was in the Captain's chair, he was at his station on the bridge. To this extent things were as they should be. She often took the command chair, she was second in command, he was often on duty at the same time. He liked knowing she was on the bridge as he worked efficiently nearby, they spoke little unless their duties required it, but having her there, knowing the work he did was for her, knowing she valued it, gave him a sense of belonging. A place to be. Someone to be. A reason to be.

Somewhere in his future was another command chair, another commanding officer who would give him a sense of belonging, a sense that he was needed as he was for who he was. A man who would risk his career and even his life simply because he called a Vulcan friend. A man he would learn to call friend in return. It would be a new thing to him, this friendship. It would not be an easy thing, but if it had been a thing known to the woman who now occupied the command chair it would have made her happy, for she knew her Vulcan most needed not to be alone even if he could not ask for it.

She was listening intently to the scan results as they were reported back, the young ensign running the scan was giving ten minute updates. Even knowing the area in which to look the scan had been running for seventy minutes with no success, she had been on the bridge for the last thirty. She veiled her frustration in icy calmness. It was evident to no one but him. He wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but she was on duty and she would no more have accepted it than would he. And he was a poor substitute for the man she truly wanted. The man who was lost on the planet below, bleeding and hurt, needing her to find him and find him before he succumbed to his injuries. Spock could see the strain of it in the tightness of her eyes and in her carefully regulated breathing.

He could see it because he loved her. And he saw something else now too; he not only had a duty to find the Captain; he now knew he wanted to. He wanted to see her laugh again, he would not allow the Captain's death to rob her of that. He would find the Captain and he would find him for her. He was scanning the planet himself, tweaking the search parameters to overlap and complement the main search in the hope of catching an anomaly in the two sets of data.

His painstaking efforts were rewarded, the bittersweet prize was his. He found the communicator signal. It was strangely distorted, obviously damaged, only the overlapping scan data had revealed it for what it was. He had found his Captain, he was sure of it. He had found Pike and would restore him to the woman on the bridge. He would do this because he loved her and because he had learned enough of love to know that sacrifice was sometimes the price of it. Already on his feet, he turned towards her and said ''I believe I have found the Captain, I have a reading for his communicator and can feed the co-ordinates directly through to the transporter.''

''Please do so'' she said ''and tell Dr Boyce that I want a med team to meet me at the transporter immediately.'' She was out of the chair now and heading out of the bridge. Her relief was evident and not only to him. He was glad and wretched in equal measure. His head was swimming with confusion, he knew he had done the right thing but he had no mechanism for dealing with the maelstrom of emotion sweeping through him. He swayed a little on his feet and sat down heavily on his chair. He was clammy and sick. He shut his eyes and waited for it to pass, fighting to regain mastery of himself.

When he opened them again he was in sickbay. Dr Boyce was leaning over him. ''Vulcan physiology is still a bit of a mystery to us my friend'' he said ''but I think you'll live. Up and out of here; you're fit to return to duty.''

''The Captain?'' asked Spock, always least concerned about himself.

''We don't know yet'' returned the Doctor gravely ''I've done all I can for him, it's up to the Good Lord now.''

Spock rose to his feet and looked round the medical facility. He could see the sleeve of the First Officer's uniform through the doorway to one of the small anterooms. He looked back to Dr Boyce.

''Go on'' said the Doctor with a kindly light in his eyes ''if you can't deal with what you find in there, you're in the right place for us to deal with you.'' Spock walked over to the anteroom, No.1 turning towards him as he entered. Her face was wet with tears. The Captain lay pale as death in the bed in front of her.

''I don't know what I'll do if he dies'' she said flatly ''I can't imagine serving with another Captain.''

He no longer cared for whom she cried; it was enough that she was in tears. He reached out for her, wrapping his arms around her slim frame and holding her to him. She tucked her head under his chin, making his collar wet with her tears. He dipped his head to rest on hers. He still burned with the need of her, even knowing that these tears were for another man. Even knowing he comforted her while she wept for another man. He could not let her go and he could not keep her. ''I'm sorry'' he said ''I regret I could not do more'' his voice was a soft sad whisper.

''No one can do more'' she whispered back, pulling her head away to gaze at him with uncharacteristically blurry eyes. ''We just have to wait now and see if he pulls through.''

She brushed at his hair and tried a weak smile ''How are you? I had no idea you were ill. I'd never have asked you to stay with me on the planet if I'd realised. I just wanted you with me; it was selfish and it wasn't regulation, but I was so worried about the Captain and I just wanted you with me. I needed you. Did I make it worse? You mustn't hide from me that you are ill. I was so scared when we brought in the Captain and I saw you were here too. I was alright up until then. Dr Boyce will tell you, one look at you and I started crying and I haven't been able to stop. I can't go back on duty, not like this; Dr Boyce says I should stay here until I'm ready. I can cope with the Captain, whatever happens, if I have you, but seeing you like that, you should have told me. You're too precious to lose'' she buried her head in his shoulder, slipping her arms round his waist ''Please don't ever scare me like that again'' she said ''I can't imagine life without you, I don't know how to live without you anymore. I've been standing here wondering what I'd do if it was you and not the Captain in that bed. Please don't ever let it be you.'' He could feel her arms tightening round him as if she intended holding on to him forever.

''You love the Captain'' he said, more confused now than he had been on the bridge.

''He's just about the best friend I have'' she agreed, her voice muffled by his uniform ''I could tell you tales about our time at the Academy. He hasn't always been this serious, he still isn't if you stand him a martini or two. I can't bear to think of him hurt like this. I guess you would call that love. I don't know, he has always just been Chris. I've never really thought about him as anything else.'' She paused and pulled away from his shoulder to look into his eyes. Her own eyes were clearing, returning to their normal crystal clarity and with them her thoughts. ''Did you think it was something more?'' she asked with gentle solemnity.

He nodded dumbly. He had no words for what he had been feeling. In the end he had not even had the strength for what he had been feeling, it had overwhelmed him and brought him here.

''I love you'' she said, mindful of every word, this had to be simple and clear. It was too important to be misunderstood. ''I may care for other people, I may care for the Captain, but I love you.''

He stood for a long moment, looking at her, still holding her as she still held him ''I don't understand'' he admitted finally ''Why?''

''Because you are you'' she said ''I love you, because you are you.''

''That is not logical'' he started ''I am...'' he searched for the words to explain his imperfection.

''You are all and everything I love'' she supplied ''and that has logic. It is logic enough for both of us. Neither of us is without failing, together we are more than we are apart. Is it not logical to be more than you can be alone?''

''My father thought so'' he said quietly ''but I am not my father.''

''You are you'' she said, regaining her smile ''and that is maybe why I am not in love with your father.''

Spock cocked his head to one side. Was she laughing at him? Humour was a difficult concept for him.

''You are you'' she repeated happily ''And that is why I love you.'' Breaking free of their embrace, she grabbed his hand and pulled him from the Captain's room so that she could give way to the inappropriate merriment which had seized her. She flung her arms around him, startling him and gave in to her laughter. Her laughter included him; she was laughing with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Spock looked up from what he had been doing. The Captain was back on the bridge, still nursing bruises and his arm in a sling, but he was back on the bridge. The Captain was talking to the ship's No.1.

Spock's gaze lingered on her as she spoke, feeling a warm sense of pride that the Captain listened to her with an attentiveness he reserved for no other. Speaking to her as an equal, easy in her company, deferring to her judgement, respectful of her opinion.

And oft times too, the Captain would laugh with her, careless of his rank, enjoying the freedom her company gave him to be just a man; mortal, fallible and human.

Spock saw the Captain laugh, saw her laugh with the Captain, as now he had seen her laugh with him. When she shouldn't have laughed at all, when the Captain had been so seriously injured and his own confusion had overwhelmed him. He knew now, beyond all doubting, that she loved him. She loved him for unfathomable reasons, but she had found a logic in this love and if she could find it, it was not impossible that he would find it. As his father had found logic in love.

But until then he had certainty; she cared for many people, thought them all precious and unique, but she loved only him. She had told him this. She had told him this when he had been unable to hear it. She had told him this when she had asked him to stay with her on the planet after the Captain had been so hurt. She had told him this when she had babbled almost incoherently into his shoulder, her face wet with the tears she had shed for him. She had told him this in words of firm simplicity. He was loved by her because he was who and what he was. He was not his father. He was not the Captain.

If he had been his father or the Captain she would not have loved him. She loved him because he was himself. It was not something he yet understood but, now and at last, it was something he could accept.

The Captain and his First Officer talked warmly together for a few minutes more, then the First Officer parted from her Captain to resume her duties. Spock's gaze was still upon her. She turned her soft blue eyes to meet his and said, so that all the bridge could hear it ''I love you.''

He did not say anything, he did not allow his expression to say anything, as he turned away from her to resume his duties, but for the first time in his life he was able to hear those words without pain.

END


End file.
